


Staged

by StuartWithNoPot



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Addictions, Alcoholism, Flashbacks, Hannibal is Dead-, Murdoc cries, Other, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:40:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27740074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StuartWithNoPot/pseuds/StuartWithNoPot
Summary: 2D didn’t know Murdoc ‘could’ sing. Why didn’t he show his amazing voice to the world?
Relationships: Hannibal Niccals & Murdoc Niccals, No Romantic Relationships - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Staged

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: before we get into this I wanna let you guys know that I spent so much fricken work writing this like- holy fuck. So I was listening to this one cover of 'Emperor's New Clothes' (Cause I thought panic at the disco was very edgy when I was a teenager oooo) and suddenly I got Hannibal vibes and so I thought of this! Please note that this is how I view the Niccals household. Sebastian favourites Hannibal, mostly because he knew how to make him cash. Sure Murdoc did those idiotic stage performances at the local bar but for Sebastian it started to lose its charm. So now Hannibal has a band with his dickhead friends (who I'm just gonna give random names), and Murdoc. With that out of the way, please enjoy!

2D had been awoken from his long, restless sleep by the sounds of singing coming from the basement of Kong Studio’s. The blue haired boy groaned and held his head in pain, feeling a migraine coming through. This wasn’t the only time he had heard that voice, and he had zero idea who it was. Whenever anyone would question it, Murdoc would always tell them that it was none-other than himself, Murdoc Niccals. But they’d just laugh. They always did laugh. 

Murdoc? A vocalist? Not in a million years. The others had heard him before, and he sounded like a cat being cooked alive on a burning stove. No way in hell is Murdoc a singer, in anyway, shape or form. He was most likely playing some records to himself while drinking his life away, it wouldn’t surprise anyone. He was a Niccals afterall.

Or at least that’s what they thought.

2D could usually sleep through the melodic voice that swept through the studio’s, however tonight, 2D couldn’t take it. Sure, it sounded most certainly amazing (despite being rock), but he was currently fed up with Murdoc and his shenanigans at the moment for purposely spilling his hot coffee all over a new pair of jeans. Without thinking, 2D got up from his room and trudged downstairs to where Murdoc was most likely resting. 

“Oi Murdoc’! Mind keepin’ it-“ the singer started, his eyes widening in shock at what he saw. Standing there, holding one of Noodle’s guitars, was none other than the bassist of Gorillaz, Murdoc Niccals. He seemed to be dressed up in a familiar outfit, and it didn’t take to long for him to realise it was his clothing from the cover photo of their album ‘Demon Days’. But the one thing that caught 2D by surprise the most was Murdoc’s voice.

He was singing.

And his voice was absolutely incredible.

2D couldn’t help himself but sit himself down on the staircase to the basement, his head gently pressed up against the dirt’ stained walls. Murdoc knew of the bluebird’s presence in the room with him, but simply ignored the man. Even if he did acknowledge his existence, he wouldn’t follow what the nob told him too anyway. Murdoc was lost in his own world, imagining an awfully large crowd surrounding him ahead of him as he sang his own music. 

Soon, with one final ending chord, he finished his cover of their song; ‘DARE’, and glanced over at his vocalist. 2D was in pure amazement, his brain still trying to process what it had just witnessed. Murdoc had hidden talent that was for sure.

“I-“ The bluenette started, but soon felt his words completely slip away from his mind. Murdoc gave 2D his standard, cocky smile, before propping the musical instrument back into it’s guitar case. 

Murdoc rolled his eyes. “You can go on back to bed you know.” He snapped, but 2D grabbed ahold of the elder man’s wrist. His black eyes were filled with excitement and joy, and Murdoc could tell. 2D’s toothy grin caught the bassist off guard for a moment, but soon, the lead singer started going ballistic with his questions.

“Where did you learn to sing like that?”

“How long have you been able to-?”

“Why have me when you’ve already go’ yourself?!”

Without a warning, that earned him a slap on the back of the head from the said bassist. 2D got the message quickly and took a step back, carefully rubbing the spot on his head that Murdoc slapped. Something in Murdoc’s eyes looked different, and 2D could definitely sense something was up. The satanist was never exactly seen like this, at least in front of him before. Where he looked so vulnerable, so full of fear. He regretted asking that question, and immediately started spurting out stuttered apologises.

“Can it bluebird.” Murdoc snapped. He came off a lot harsher than intended, so much that it even caused 2D to coward back out of anxiety. He knew he should give him some personal space but.. that excitement was now laced with full concern. Did something happen in his life that the others don’t know about? He was Murdoc Niccals! A star from birth!

2D snapped out of his little daydream when a small, metal can collided with his head, and he swooped his head around to see Murdoc sitting by the staircase. He cocked an eyebrow; “well? You asked! Do you wanna hear my ‘tragic’ backstory?” All of that fear in his eyes all disappeared, vanished. Replaced with his usual, cocky self. It didn’t take long for his prideful, brooding persona to return.

“Well Er.. when I was a young fellow, I was livin’ with my dad. Sebastian Niccals. An alcoholic he was, and a gambler too. He’d always enter me into this stupid.. show. A gig one would call it.”

“A gig!?” 2D questioned, and the green tinted male nodded as he took out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it. 

“Ok.. well not necessarily a gig. It was a talent competition.”

/

Murdoc stood in the middle of the stage at the local bar. His father would often drag him and his elder brother, Hannibal up to the filthy building. It’s where Sebastian Niccals made most of his coin, whether it be through gambling, competing in local events, or pick n’ pocket the drunks at the bar. 

This particular night was one of little Murdoc’s worst dreams come to reality, it was the bar’s, “Are You A Star?” Talent competition. Not only did Murdoc have no talent to offer, his father made him do the most pathetic acts imaginable, just to make a few quick bucks. The little, nine year old Niccals was shaking like a leaf, just wanting to run off the stage and cry from sheer humiliation. He was wearing the most, cheapest, tightest looking Pinocchio costume anyone had ever seen. His pants were way to small, the suspenders he wore didn’t properly buckle, and his hat wouldn’t sit properly on his head.

Sebastian glared daggers right at the boy as the music started, and all Murdoc did was stand there, frozen. It were as if he were hit was a tranquilliser gun, and his body became paralysed from its effects.

He already knew what was coming when he got home that night..

/

“He really made you do tha’? And fo’ what? Drinkin’ money?” 2D questioned, smiling gently. He couldn’t lie, thinking of what Murdoc would look like in a Pinocchio costume seemed to entertain him. The singer even suppressed a laugh. Murdoc rolled his eyes, stomping his boot onto 2D’s bare feet. “Augh! Murdoc!”

Murdoc simply scoffed. “Less laughin’ and more listening. Yeah? Well I also have an older brother. He was an’ alright bloke. Basically an older, taller version of me.” 2D rubbed his foot, hissing softly at the stinging pain. If that didn’t leave a bruise, he’d most certainly be surprised. But then that caught him off guard- an older brother!?

2D gasped. “You never told us ‘bout an older siblin’!”

“Are you kiddin’ you nob? I’ve mentioned like.. Dunno, a few times on interviews.” Murdoc responded.

“I don’t ‘fink so..”

“Will ya’ shut your gob and let me talk for a sec!? Sweet Satan-“

“Anyways.. yes, my brother. Hannibal Niccals his name was. Tall, lanky, played Guitar and did vocals in our ‘first’ band together. As much as he was a great guitar player, he wasn’t exactly a..erm.. a good singer whatsoever. Trash to put it simply. Lil’ ol’ me. Twelve I think I was? Anyways, we formed a band with ‘im and a few of his ‘ghastly’ friends he had, and me being the.. heh, cheeky little shit I was, I wanted to be the front man. Large and in charge.”

/

“Oh for fuck’s sake Murdoc! Will you quit it!?” Hannibal Niccals shouted to the much shorter brother next to him. Murdoc was in the sixth grade, nothing but the ideas of being a world famous guitarist and singer crossed his mind, all day, every day. So when his older brother asked him if he wanted to be apart of a band, he immediately agreed. But the words that passed his lips made him more than disappointed.

“Great! Now get on that bass and sing back up vocals, yeah?” Backup vocals he said, bass player he said. But Murdoc was mostly forgotten on the sidelines, and watched as his brother and his idiotic friends joined him. Occasionally he’d tune in and try to get more involved, but it always resulted in little Murdoc getting scolded or excluded.

The younger Niccals rolled his eyes, kicking the amp next to him and smirking at their drummers reaction. “Dude! That’s expensive shit-!” Jordan exclaimed, just for Hannibal to grab the green skinned boy by the collar. Murdoc flinched, glaring daggers at the older brother’s eyes. “Listen ‘ere. I’m the lead vocalist kid. You stick to backup. You are the ‘backup’ singer, and bassist. Nothing more.”

The early teen sighed, sliding a hand through his hair. “Oh fuck off! You get all this.. good shit! And I’m stuck in the bloody back!” He complained, pouting. Hannibal rolled his eyes, hitting his smaller brother on the back of his head. “You’re an ungrateful lil’ shit, you know that Murdoc!? No wonder why dad constantly flogs ya’!” He snapped. Murdoc’s eyes widened in shock, and soon it settled in. He was right.. the tanned male looked at the ground, twiddling with the strings which were still hooked up the amp. That got him quiet.

Tyler (their pianist and keyboard player) snickered at the shorter’s scolding, but ended up getting slapped on the back of the head by Hannibal as well. No one was able to talk shit about his brother but him. 

Murdoc was quiet for the rest of band practice, his full attention and focus on what Hannibal had told him. He often did misbehave, and he never exactly understand why. Was it to get attention? Or maybe because he simply didn’t like his home? His bass? School? His dad often did hurt him, whether it be with his words, or physical. And it was always for the same reason.

He was an ungrateful brat.

When band practice ended, Murdoc was the first to leave the basement. His fear and anxieties were still spiked from the confrontation earlier, and he couldn’t help but feel tears prickle in the corner of his eyes.

No.

He hated crying.

Before anyone could notice, his running footsteps were full of anxiety, quickly running into his bedroom and slamming the door shut. His ‘room’ wouldn’t even be considered a room. His space was the small closet underneath the stairs. He could fit his bed, amd his bass, and that was all. His clothes and other belongs like his school bag, lyrics and the countless slingshots he made out of sheer bordem were all under his bed.

Hannibal and the other band members were making their way outside, most likely in order to drop the sleeze bags off to Satan knows where.. 

“You’re brothers a bit of a co’ard ain’t ‘e?” Jordan spoke up, his thick Irish accent slipping through his words as he lit a fag. Hannibal simply scoffed, stepping on his foot with the heel of his boot. “Oh piss off you saggy piece of horse shit.” He snapped as he began to drive the vehicle. 

Tyler snickered and slowly began imitating the younger one’s voice. “You get all this good shit! And I’m in the bloody back!” The brunette exclaimed, watching the previously mentioned blonde lose his shit, cackling. Hannibal pulled over the car, lowering his sunglasses. He had swollen eyes, filled with malice and hatred. It made the two boys scatter almost immediately. They couldn’t care less if it was raining, they both knew damn well not to mess with a Niccals afterall.

Murdoc froze when he heard footsteps approaching the closet, and his body’s immediate response was to cover himself with a blanket, shaking. What good was that going to do!? He was screwed.

He braced himself for a painful impact when the door swung open. 

But he was shocked to feel a gentle, pat on the back, followed by the familiar voice of his elder brother. “Oi, sit up ya’ grease stain. It’s just me.” Hannibal was never the best at comforting people, so his methods weren’t what someone would call reassuring in the slightest. But to Murdoc, how much that simple pat meant to him. 

“I was thinkin’, theirs a lot of high notes in the song we’re doin’ fo’ the show on Sunday that I just can’t hit. And well~” he dragged on, not making eye contact with the smaller one. However, he could sense Murdoc’s beaming eyes landing on him. He groaned when Murdoc hugged him. He wasn’t one for physical contact. 

“Yeah yeah, no need to get sappy ya’ fuckin’ disaster.” Hannibal smirked.

Murdoc snickered. “Oh shut the fuck up ye’ broot! I’m excited ya know!?” He teen exclaimed, going to jump on his bed, before realising he was too tall to stand on his bed, let alone jump on it without hitting his head on the roof, and rattling the stairs.

Hannibal couldn’t help himself but watch his little brother’s freak out with interest. He never exactly got to experience what it was like to be with a happy Murdoc in his life anymore. Especially since school started up.

It was nice to feel like he had a little brother like a Murdoc to be there with him.

/

2D was smiling widely for the majority of that story. Not at the idea of Murdoc going through something as traumatising as violence and abuse. But rather at the thought that Murdoc had someone with him. Someone yo protect him during his lowest moments. Hannibal didn’t necessarily sound perfect, but from how Murdoc described him. Hannibal sounded like a pretty cool sibling to have. But then he frowned again.

“I don’t fink’ I understand dat’ well.” The bluenette started, scratching the back of his head. 

Murdoc grumbled. “You don’t understand anything, so that doesn’t surprise me.”

“No- just listen yea’? How does some rehearsal prevent ya’ from singin’.”

“It wasn’t the fuckin’ rehearsal. It was.. the show. Because that show. That show.” Murdoc’s eyes widened, he looked down at the ground once again with wide eyes. 2D noticed how his hands clenched, and how his eyes flickered around the room intensely. Murdoc’s breathing began to feel uneven, and The singer no longer felt safe in Murdoc’s presence. 2D went to back away, standing up and walking up the creaking floorboards.

He was shocked by the response he received from the bassist.

“That show ended with him.. turning into a crow.”

“A c-crow? Why?”

One single tear traced down Niccals’s face, and 2D watched intensely as it dropped down the concrete. The concrete was quick to soak up the tiny puddle, and Murdoc’s lips wavered as he spoke.

“Because he’s free in the clouds.”

~ end ~


End file.
